


Dozmary

by WorryinglyInnocent



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: AU, Arthurian characters, Arthurian mythology - Freeform, Dark Castle, F/M, First Time, Shakespearean Characters, enchanted forest, s1 au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-02-10 20:55:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18668215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WorryinglyInnocent/pseuds/WorryinglyInnocent
Summary: Rumpelstiltskin permits Belle to accompany him on a deal in the kingdom of Avalon, little knowing the devastating consequences that will occur. Rumpel is soon caught up in a race against time, determined to save Belle’s life - even if it means dealing with the mysterious Sisterhood of the Fallen Fae.This idea came to me during season 1 and whilst it uses Arthurian mythology and characters, it’s not compliant with canon OUAT’s Camelot storyline.





	Dozmary

Rumpelstiltskin had always hated dealing in Arthur’s kingdom. The magic there was different. It always seemed sticky, clinging to his skin and hair.

It was said that Avalon was where magic itself had begun; the Lady in the Lake was legendary as being the wellspring of all the magic in the Enchanted Forest. The magic here was far more unrefined: rawer, and more closely in tune with the earth and water.

Rumpelstiltskin didn’t know how much truth there was in the stories, but he knew that he disliked the place and even more so the magic users within it. He never felt fully in control, as if the magician with whom he was dealing could take the upper hand at any moment.

Belle, however, loved it. She’d been in raptures about the kingdom’s beauty ever since they had arrived, and Rumpelstiltskin didn’t have the heart to cut their trip short when she was having so much fun exploring. He was beginning to think that he had made a mistake in allowing her to accompany him on his business outings. Maybe it was just because he felt even more on edge here in Avalon, concerned for her safety. After all, none of their other trips to other, more exotic climes, had resulted in any mishaps.

The time agreed for the deal was almost at hand, and Rumpelstiltskin slipped back into the shadows of the tavern, making sure that Belle was closest to the door in case a quick getaway was needed. As enthusiastic as she was about discovering every inch of the place, she had sensed his unease and accepted his precautions without a word.

Their associate was easy to spot; trying to keep a low profile just as Rumpelstiltskin and Belle were. The heavily cloaked figure sat down at the table opposite Rumpelstiltskin and pushed back their hood a little way to reveal a sharp female face with piercing green eyes and a hard mouth.

“Lady Morgause.” Rumpelstiltskin gave some effort to a bow. “How nice to see you again.”

Morgause scoffed. “Oh, Rumpelstiltskin, we all know that you hate it here and you can barely stand the sight of me. I assure you that the feeling is entirely mutual so shall we cut to the chase? Do you have it?”

Rumpelstiltskin snapped his fingers and the potion Morgause had requested from him appeared in his hand. He held it back as Morgause reached out for it, and she scowled.

“You know, it’s a simple enough brew. You should be able to do it yourself. Or do you prefer your old methods of boiling cats and whatnot?” Beside him, he felt Belle shudder at the suggestion. Morgause must have seen it too; she gave a nasty smile.

“I didn’t realise that it was bring your skivvy to work day, Rumpelstiltskin. If only I’d known.”

“Don’t think I can’t see your son skulking about over there.” Rumpelstiltskin pointed one spindly finger at the gangly youth trying and failing to make himself look inconspicuous. “You know I don’t like uneven odds. I thought a little insurance wouldn’t go amiss. Tell me, do you really care about him, or is he just another one of your pawns in the great battle of revenge against Arthur?”

“Just give me my potion,” Morgause snapped. He’d touched a nerve; the entirety of her family tree and all its gnarled and complicated branches was a sore point. “You’ve never shown anything but contempt for our politics before, why the sudden interest now?”

“I just like to keep an eye on the local rulers. It’s useful to know which way the wind is blowing at any given point. Things are rather pleasant in Avalon for the moment.” He sniffed, able to smell the raw, pure magic clinging to him even now in the tavern, where the dark things came to play. “Well, as pleasant as they ever can be in this hellhole. But with Mordred on the throne, well, who knows what delectable disasters might occur? Desperation would abound, Lady Morgause, just as you anticipate yourself, and we all know what I trade in best.”

Morgause’s eyes narrowed. “Potion. Now.”

“Not until you uphold your end of the bargain, dearie. A deal is a deal, after all.”

Morgause gave a huff of annoyance, although Rumpelstiltskin knew full well that she was perfectly aware of the circumstances of their deal and he didn’t know why she thought she could get out of it. His wording had been very plain. She pulled off a simple silver bangle from her wrist and held it out to him.

“This will ensure you safe passage into my sister’s domain,” she said. “Although I can’t fathom what you want with her.”

“Well.” Rumpelstiltskin twirled the potion bottle between his fingers, dancing the glass in front of Morgause’s face until she reached out and snatched it from him. This time he didn’t resist; he had got what he came for. “I would have thought that was obvious. If I’m going to deal with an Avalon witch, then I’ll want to deal with the best. Morgana’s reputation is legendary even in my part of the Enchanted Forest.”

Morgause did not appreciate the slight against her own magical abilities, but she said nothing. It was a well-known fact throughout the realm that of the three sisters, Morgana’s powers far outstripped Morgause and Elaine’s.

“Maybe if you didn’t have to come to me for your simple invisibility spells, I wouldn’t need to go to Morgana for the discussions I wish to have,” Rumpelstiltskin hissed. The conversation was closed, the deal done. Morgause had got what she wanted, and all Rumpelstiltskin wanted was to get out of Avalon and back to the Dark Castle as soon as possible, to get rid of the feel of this cloying magic on him. He was very much looking forward to a scalding hot bath as soon as they returned.

Morgause smiled, and since Morgause was not at all given to smiling when Rumpelstiltskin was in the vicinity, he was immediately on edge. She was drawing patterns on the sticky table top with one long fingernail.

“As you wish, Rumpelstiltskin. Although you must remember that it never pays to underestimate your opponent.”

She rose regally, every inch the queen she might have been had history taken a different course, and she swept out of the tavern in a wave of black velvet. Mordred waited a few moments more before hurrying out after her.

“Ugh.” Rumpelstiltskin shuddered. “That’s quite enough of that for one day. Let’s go home, Belle. Belle?”

“Yes? Sorry, I must have nodded off for a second there.”

Rumpelstiltskin’s brow furrowed. It had not exactly been a boring conversation between himself and Morgause, and he had already warned her that she would need to be on her guard. Dropping off was not something he would have expected of her in such circumstances.

“Let’s get you home to bed,” he said. “Can’t have you falling asleep on the job now, then where would we be? It’s all that reading you do, staying up till all hours trying to get to the end of whatever romantic tale you’ve got your nose stuck in this time.”

He was trying to be flippant to mask his growing unease, but even he could hear it ringing false in his ears. Belle didn’t mention his tone, happy to let him lead her out of the tavern and towards the forest, from where he could transport them back to the Dark Castle with ease.

Belle stumbled in his arms as they landed in the entrance hall, and he held her tightly as her knees threatened to give out.

“I’m sorry, I really don’t know what’s got into me,” she said as he set her back on her feet. “I’m just not feeling myself at the moment. Maybe there was something in the mead back at the tavern.”

Rumpelstiltskin wished that he could agree with her, but he already had the gnawing suspicion that something far darker was at work here. If this was the result of Morgause or Mordred’s meddling, then there would be absolute hell for them to pay once he found them. Once he’d got Belle sorted out, of course. He just nodded his agreement, trying to think up a suitable witty quip about her getting tipsy that would lighten the mood, but none came. Instead, he just helped her up the stairs and into her room without another word, lying her down on her bed and using a judicious finger snap of magic to get her into her nightdress. She was already half asleep as he left the room, and it was a marker of how out of it she was that she made no mention of all the magic he was using around her. She preferred him not to use magic on her if he could help it; she knew only too well that everything of that sort had a price and she didn’t want to be the one to pay it, nor did she want him to have to pay it on her account.

Now though, it seemed that she might be paying the price after all. Leaving her to sleep, Rumpelstiltskin went up to his laboratory and sank down heavily into a seat at the workbench, resting his head in his hands. He had wanted to bring Belle along for the ride today. Although he tried to tell himself that her accompanying him on his deals meant that she was getting to see the world like she had always dreamed of, there were more selfish reasons at hand. He had known that Morgause would bring Mordred along and he had not wanted to meet her alone.

It was his own fault. He had brought Belle into a situation that he knew might be potentially dangerous, and now she was going to pay the price for it. If he’d been half a man, he would have sought out a magical ally to take along with him to even the odds, but no, he was too proud and too scared to ask for help and he’d put Belle in harm’s way as a result of that, whilst pretending that he was doing it for her own good.

It was early days yet to try and work out precisely what had happened to her, and a small, increasingly desperate part of him kept parroting the idea that she’d just had too much mead and that she would be all right in the morning. The trouble was that Morgause’s magic was so closely linked with the nature of her birthplace; it was something that was unknowable to him, with his powers received from a curse.

All he could do was wait and see what happened, as agonising as that might be. Still, that didn’t mean that he couldn’t be prepared. He’d amassed quite the library of magical knowledge over all his years of being the Dark One, and although Avalon magic had always been a tricky and fickle thing, there were still some writings on it. He wouldn’t lose anything by taking a look at one of his books. If it turned out that Belle was just sickening for something entirely non-magical, it would hardly have been a waste of his time, and if his suspicions were correct, then he had a valuable head start when he came to reverse whatever had been done to her.

It was not often that Rumpelstiltskin was glad that he didn’t need to sleep, but tonight was one of those occasions. He selected a heavy and comprehensive tome from the shelf and trimmed the lamp on the workbench, settling down for a long and worrying night of research, hoping against all hope that Belle would be better in the morning.

X

When Belle came up to the tower the next morning looking refreshed and bright-eyed, Rumpelstiltskin almost thought that his prayers had been answered. She’d been up early and made him breakfast, and if she was alarmed by the large book of ancient curses that he had open on his lap, then she didn’t show it. The change from her demeanour of last night was almost worrying in itself. It couldn’t have been too much mead; she’d be complaining of a headache and making him promise not to let her drink so much again. At least, that was what had happened the last time she’d got tipsy off her homemade elderflower wine.

(It hadn’t stopped her indulging again, because Rumpelstiltskin rather enjoyed the somewhat tipsy Belle. She knew a variety of drinking songs that he wondered where on earth she could have heard them given her sheltered upbringing in her father’s castle.)

“Are you feeling all right, Belle?” he asked tentatively.

“Yes, I feel much better than I did yesterday evening. I’m really not quite sure what came over me then, but it was very peculiar. Still, that was yesterday. It’s a beautiful day today, and I think I’ll bake a pie.”

“Well, as long as you don’t burn it, like all of the last attempts at pies you’ve created,” Rumpelstiltskin snipped. It wouldn’t do for her to think that he was getting too concerned about her welfare. Belle just gave him a look. It wasn’t a look that he had really seen on anyone else before and he was beginning to think that she’d perfected it just for him. Thinking about Belle having a patented look just for him wasn’t something that he really wanted to think about, because that inevitably led to too much thinking about Belle and overanalysing her feelings. And his own, come to think of it. Every time he received that look from her, he always wondered if it meant anything more than deep frustration, and every time, he always had to give himself a stern talking to, since it would really not be doing to ascribe more emotion than was intended to her actions. Of course she had become close to him over the course of her time in the Dark Castle. Of course she had expressions tailored just for him. He was the only person she ever saw, after all.

That was why he had started taking her out on his deals with him, in the effort to give her some more variety in her life, ignoring the voices telling him that if he really didn’t care about her then he would care less if she only ever saw the inside of the castle and only ever interacted with him for the rest of her life.

He knew that she would never break the deal that she had made with him. She would never wilfully try to escape and get back to her family, but that didn’t mean that she couldn’t be resentful at being separated from the rest of the world and denied her opportunity for adventure. Not that she would have had many adventures whilst being the wife of a minor nobleman, though.

_If I can’t know anyone else in my whole life, can’t I at least know you?_

The words had stuck with him, deeper than he would ever care to admit to anyone. Perhaps it was because he didn’t want her to know him that he had started giving her the opportunity to meet other people.

Look how well that had turned out, he thought to himself darkly. Even though Belle seemed much better today, he still couldn’t be sure what was going on. As she turned to leave the laboratory, he wondered if he perhaps ought to keep a closer eye on her today. He didn’t listen to her as often as he used to, preferring to let her have her privacy. At first he had done it to try and get a handle on exactly what she thought about her situation, but once she had settled in and he knew that she wasn’t about to try and murder him in his bed, he left her alone.

She probably wouldn’t appreciate knowing that he was eavesdropping on her pie-making, even if he was doing it for her own good. No, it would be better to be overt about it. At least this way, if she did keel over whilst in the middle of culinary pursuits, he would be there to avoid the disasters of a burned-out kitchen and a very singed maid.

When he poofed into the kitchen a few minutes later, the slight spark of optimism that he had felt when he had first seen Belle that morning died away slowly. Belle was standing at the stove rubbing her forehead, a frown creasing her brow and her cheeks showing a pallor far from their usual creamy pink.

“Belle?”

She whirled round, looking guilty, as if she’d been caught doing something that she shouldn’t have been.

“I’m fine,” she said with false brightness. “Just a bit of a headache, I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about. It just came on suddenly, that’s all.”

Rumpelstiltskin pulled out a chair at the table and strode across the room towards her, guiding her into a sitting position despite her protests. He pressed a hand against her forehead; she was burning up.

“Something’s wrong, Belle,” he said simply. “You’re not well.”

“I’m fine,” Belle protested, when she was clearly anything but. “It’s probably just the effects of the mead yesterday, I mean, I felt so much better when I got up this morning that it can’t be anything too bad, can it?” She tried to get up, swayed a little, and quickly sat back down again. “All right, maybe I stood up a bit too quickly then. But I promise you that it’s nothing a good cup of tea can’t fix.”

“If you say so. But given your current state, I shall be the one making the tea for fear of the kitchen going up in smoke.”

Surprisingly, Belle did not put up a fight about this, which was how Rumpelstiltskin knew that she was feeling far worse than she let on. She always maintained that he did not know how to make a decent pot of tea and she’d frequently expressed her sympathies at his having to live with undrinkable tea until she’d arrived on the scene.

She didn’t complain when he poured her a cup, wrapping her hands around it and holding it close to her chest.

“Are you cold?”

Belle nodded. “Yes. I just can’t seem to get warm today. Maybe I’m coming down with something after all.”

Rumpelstiltskin conjured her a shawl with a snap of his fingers and wrapped it around her shoulders gently; she gave him a grateful smile as she pulled it in close.

“Thank you, Rumpel. You’re being very good to me today. What’s brought this on?”

“Good help is so hard to find these days, and I can’t afford to have you taking any more time out of your duties than necessary, after all. The place won’t dust itself and I won’t have you falling off anymore ladders because you’ve fainted in the pelmets.”

It was the same type of flippant remark that he sent her way so frequently, and Belle just gave him her look. She’d never believed his attitude; his reputation with her had been ruined from the day he let Robin Hood go. If he was being completely honest then he didn’t mind that she always saw beneath his bluster, but he wasn’t about to let her know that.

Still. He could let her know his suspicions. It was his duty to. It was all very well letting her continue with the impression that she was getting a chill in her chest or that she had a horrible hangover, but if there was one thing that he knew about Belle, it was that she had a streak of determination a mile wide and if she knew that she had been cursed, then she would do her utmost to find a cure. If his suspicions were correct then he would need as many pairs of eyes as possible to help him find something.

It was best to just come straight out with it.

“Belle… I don’t think that you’re coming down with something.”

“I guess that the mead was stronger than I thought, then.”

“I don’t think it was the mead either; you only had the one tankard.”

Belle looked at him, her wide blue eyes searching but still showing that tell-tale tiredness. “What are you trying to say, Rumpel?”

“I think you’ve been cursed.”

“What? Why? How? Surely that’s not possible. Surely I would know if I’d been cursed.”

“You would think so, but the magic in Avalon is tricky, and so are its users.”

Belle nodded. “Yes, you told me to be on my guard.” She paused and took a sip of her tea; since she didn’t grimace, Rumpelstiltskin thought that he must have done something right in its preparation.

 

Either that or she was so dumbfounded by his revelation that she didn’t notice the scorched leaves.

“Do you think that Morgause cursed me?”

Rumpelstiltskin nodded. “I’m sorry, Belle. I should never have put you in her path like that. I…”

“Nonsense.” Despite her weakness, Belle’s voice was firm. “You were giving me an adventure, Rumpel. There are always dangers involved in such things. You know that. Just think of what might have happened if you hadn’t been there? Considering the scrapes that I managed to get into here in the castle grounds, keeping me shut up here was hardly safer than taking me with you.”

Rumpelstiltskin thought back to the incident with the Queens of Darkness, which wasn’t something that he ever liked to do. It was true that no matter what, trouble did seem to find Belle, and as long as she was with him, she would likely be a target. Not that the thought made him feel any better, in fact it had the opposite effect. More than once in the past he had considered letting her go and releasing her from their contract. She would be safer at home in the Marchlands, no longer associated with him and no longer prime picking to be used as a pawn. This was why he had always tried to deny his feelings for her. If no-one realised just how much she meant to him, then perhaps they would not use her so.

Evidently, it had not worked, and the fact that she was not angry about the situation really didn’t help matters.

“Do you know for certain?” she asked presently.

“Pardon?” Rumpelstiltskin had been so lost in his own melancholy train of thought that he’d forgotten Belle’s presence beside him.

She reached over and touched his hand. Hers was cold and clammy. “Do you know for certain that it’s a curse? It wouldn’t do to be assuming the worst when it could just be a simple cold. I might have been due for this for days, and it’s only just chosen now to rear its head. Perhaps it was the change of air in Avalon that triggered it.”

Well, he couldn’t be completely certain, because the symptoms were manifesting in the same way as an ordinary illness, if extremely rapid and pronounced. All the same, Belle’s words felt like she was desperately trying to deny being cursed, and that probably wouldn’t be good for her in the long run.

“I’m as certain as I can be,” he said. If she would let him, then he would be able to use his magic to remove all doubt, but he had not wanted to start bespelling her in her sleep without her knowledge. “There is a spell I can use to check.”

Belle shook her head, and Rumpelstiltskin could detect the fear in her voice. It was not a fear of him, per se, more a general fear of being cursed in and of itself and having that confirmed.

“No. No, not just yet. Just give me another day to see if I feel better. I’m sure that there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for all of this.”

Although the longer the curse was left to take root in her, the harder it would be to remove, Rumpelstiltskin acquiesced to her wish, resolving to keep a very close eye on her. After she had finished her tea, he sent her back to bed with strict instructions to stay there and not attempt any housework all day. Normally Belle would have teased him or jumped at the chance to spend an entire day in her library reading, but today she was simply grateful for the respite.

There was definitely something very wrong.

X

Over the next few days, it became clear that Belle’s condition was worsening, and she was no longer trying to deny it or pass it off as a simple chill or sickness. On the second day, she allowed Rumpelstiltskin to diagnose her with magic, and everything had been confirmed. The miasma that he had pulled off her was a sickly purple colour, and it could not have been anything except dark magic.

It was a reluctant acceptance that she had been cursed, but it was nonetheless an acceptance. The castle went untidied and pots of tea went unmade as Rumpelstiltskin worked feverishly to try and work out precisely what it was that ailed her, and more importantly, what could be done to reverse the symptoms and bring her back into good health once more. Belle helped as much as she could for her part, but it was getting to the stage where she could no longer concentrate on a book for very long before the words started to swim in front of her eyes and her head began to pound. She spent most of her days in the main room on the chaise longue, sleeping and reading in alternate bursts.

At first Rumpelstiltskin had left her alone, holing himself up in his tower with the mantra that the castle itself was imbued with enough magic that it could take care of Belle and that he would know if something terrible had happened, and that if he was up here alone and not worrying about making sure that she was all right all the time, then he would get to the bottom of their crisis far quicker. As it was, exactly the opposite had happened, and being separated from Belle in her fragile state made him even more distracted and anxious than being with her did.

He’d moved a great swathe of his reference works down to the main hall - so that Belle could have the run of them too, he reasoned - and spent most of his time in there with her, always keeping half an eye on her sleeping form to make sure that her slumber remained restful. The spinning wheel had sat untouched for the best part of a week; all of Rumpelstiltskin’s attention had been focussed on Belle’s recovery. By the end of the week, the only time he left her side was to go and brew up a potion that he thought might help her. So far, nothing had worked, and he had the sneaking suspicion that he knew what was going to be required. It was a curse unique to Avalon’s magic, and so would its cure be. It was with a heavy heart that he had gone back to his oldest magical tome and begun to scour its pages of nature-based magic for clues once more.

Rumpelstiltskin shut his book with a sigh, placing both hands on top it and looking over at Belle, curled up on the chaise longue asleep. It was as he thought. He had found her cure, but they would have to venture back into Arthur’s realm in order to procure it, right into the very heart of the Avalon woods, where the magic was at its most potent and uncontrollable.

“What’s the matter, Rumpel?”

Belle looked up blearily, propping herself up on one elbow and surveying him through half-closed eyes. Evidently she had not been as asleep as he thought she had. He hastened to her side, helping her to take a sip of the tea he had been keeping warm for her by magic and fussing over her blankets; in short doing everything he could to avoid her question.

Even in her cursed state, though, Belle was never one for his avoidance techniques and she gave him as sharp a look as she was able.

“That was not a happy sigh, Rumpel. What’s the matter? Have you still not found anything?”

Rumpel grimaced. He couldn’t lie and tell her that he had been unable to find a cure; he certainly couldn’t deny her the magic that would save her just because he didn’t want to go to the place that would do it.

“No, I’ve found something. I know how to get this curse off you. It’s just not going to be an easy journey.”

Belle took the teacup from him, holding it in both her hands and sipping carefully. “I’m listening. When it comes to magic, I’ve learned that nothing is ever easy. What would be the price?”

“I’m really not sure, that’s the problem.”

“You’re not making a whole lot of sense right now, Rumpel. What do we have to do to break this curse?”

Rumpelstiltskin sighed again. “You’ll need to bathe in the Dozmary Pool.”

Belle gave a slow nod. “Is that it? That sounds simple enough.”

“The act itself is simple. The location isn’t.”

“Go on.”

“The Dozmary is in the heart of Arthur’s kingdom, in the forests that not even the most hardened of his knights dare to tread. It’s a place where the Fallen Fae gather. Fairies who’ve lost their wings and been banished from the skies by the Rheul Gorm.”

“Why were they banished?”

“That’s something you’d have to ask the Rheul Gorm, since it’s at her will. They disobeyed her, or they annoyed her. Or they were practising dark magic. The Fallen Fae are watched over by Mab. She’s been there for as long as anyone can remember. Longer than I’ve been alive, certainly, and we all know how long that’s been. The Dozmary is a sacred place to them. I’m fairly sure that they won’t let just anyone walk up to it and start trying to break curses.”

“Well, surely there can’t be any harm in asking, can there? If the pool has magical properties then it makes sense that they would want to guard it, but if we ask, then they might let us use it. Fairies are supposed to be benevolent, and even if these ones have lost their wings, I’m sure that they would still hear us out if we went to them without pretence.”

Belle’s suggestion was remarkably simple, and whilst Rumpelstiltskin was annoyed that he hadn’t thought of it himself, he also knew exactly why he had not thought of it himself. In his experience, fairies were not to be trusted and certainly not asked for help.

On the other hand, these were Fallen Fae. They would certainly have no love for the Rheul Gorm after she had stripped them of their wings, so perhaps they would be more inclined to help someone who also held a grudge against her.

Except, of course, it was not for his sake that he was requesting their aid. It was for Belle. It would be selfish of him to assume that his own relationships with the Fae Folk should take precedence over her, or that they would refuse to help an innocent because she was associated with him.

The Rheul Gorm might do that. He liked to think that the Fallen Fae had a different view of the world.

“How long will it take us to get there?” Belle asked. She handed the teacup back to Rumpelstiltskin and tried to get up into a sitting position; he pushed her back with alarm.

“I can take us to Camelot in a finger snap, but we would have to walk through the forest to the Dozmary without magic; it wouldn’t do to anger the Fae.” He thought of his previous encounters with Mab throughout his life. They had not been entirely antagonistic, but then, a lot of his encounters with people were not entirely antagonistic. Merely slightly antagonistic. It was probably due to his personality, but up until now, he had never held any desire to change it. He’d never really seen the need to cultivate that many friends and allies. He’d had Jefferson, certainly, but since Priscilla’s death the man had hung up his hat for good and there would be no more assistance from him. He had not heard from the man for years.

Now that he was in this situation, with Belle unwell and his own magic unable to cure her, Rumpelstiltskin was beginning to think that perhaps he ought to have been a bit more careful in not alienating so many potential acquaintances. He had never needed them when it had just been him. He was immortal and almost invulnerable; he never suffered under common colds and it took a lot for magic to affect him. Now he had Belle, who was very mortal and very vulnerable to magic and illness and all other kinds of things that for all her strength, she could not combat alone. Now, he had to admit that he needed help in order to help her. 

“I want you to get as much rest as possible before we make the journey,” he added. “You’ll need your strength. You already know how tricky a place Avalon can be.”

Belle nodded and let him tuck her back in under the covers again.

“The next time you wake, we’ll make the journey. I’ll prepare an offering for Mab to keep her sweet. You just rest.”

Belle closed her eyes with a smile. “You’re so good to me, Rumpel.”

Rumpelstiltskin didn’t reply. He felt a pang of something long forgotten squeezing his heart. He wanted to say that his caring for her now was simply the repayment of a debt. He had been the one to bring her to Camelot and place her in harm’s way from Morgause, and therefore he should be the one to make sure that she was well again.

It went deeper than that, he knew it. He certainly felt guilt had having endangered her in this way, but there was more to his care for her than just guilt. Over the past few days of attending to her, he had found that he didn’t mind becoming her caretaker. In fact, he actually rather liked it. She had taken care of him and the castle for months, and now it felt right to be able to repay her whilst she was incapacitated.

He stayed watching her for a few moments as her breathing evened out and she fell into a light slumber. For all her exhaustion, her sleep never seemed to be truly deep and restful. Probably intentional, to prevent her healing herself and to allow the curse to take further effect. Something in the back of his mind told him that he was going soft. Something else told him that he wasn’t going to gain anything by taking care of her this way. Another snide little voice was desperately trying to convince him that the only reason he was making sure that she was cured was because good help was so hard to find these days, and if his maid succumbed to a curse then he would have no-one to wash his shirts.

Deep down, he knew that these little voices were there to distract him, but they were a little comforting to hear nonetheless, helping him to avoid facing up to his true feelings.

He pushed the thoughts of Belle aside, trying to steel himself for the forthcoming trip to Avalon. He had not met with Mab in many years, and the circumstances last time had been very different. He had no idea what she might want in exchange for her assistance; he was used to being the one who set the terms of a deal.

In the end he decided that he would start with simple gold. Fae weren’t usually ones for material possessions, but the Fallen Fae were a law unto themselves, and just because one knew what fairies were like, that was no indication as to what their ground-bound sisters might do. No longer bidden to conform to the standards of the fairy godmothers, they dabbled in all sorts of human pursuits that Rheul Gorm deemed to be beneath her, but they still stayed separate from the world, preferring their own company.

He made his way over to the wheel and gave it a pull to start it turning; it squeaked a little from having gone unused for longer than usual, but Belle did not stir. Rumpelstiltskin began to work the straw into gold, the motion so familiar to him now that he didn’t need to think about it. That was why he loved spinning so much. He could just watch the wheel in mesmerised silence, and everything else fell away. Spinning, he could forget about Belle’s curse and everything that was happening in the castle around him. He could forget his worry for a little while, at least until she woke again, and they would have to make their pilgrimage to the Dozmary Pool.

He instead remembered the good times. The moments when he and Belle had sat here of an evening, Belle lying on that same chaise longue, engrossed in a book as he span, and occasionally reading particularly amusing passages aloud to him. Rumpelstiltskin always maintained that the adventure stories were his favourite, but he never complained when she told him stories of love and romance instead.

He would give anything for those moments to last forever, and he would give anything for him to be able to continue enjoying them - and enjoying Belle’s company in general. Mab may not appreciate the golden thread, but she would certainly appreciate the sentiment behind its presentation. Whatever the price would be for Belle’s recovery, he would gladly pay it. Even if it meant separating them forever.

It would not do to let Mab know just how desperate he was, though. He had been on the other end of such deals so many times in the past, and he knew what such desperation looked like to the party with all the power. It certainly provided a feeling of intoxication. He wondered what particular thing she would want. Dealing with other magic users was always tricky. With non-magic folk it was easy. They needed magic, which was readily available to him. Magicians, particularly the ones that weren’t entirely human, could be drawn into very complex deals.

Rumpelstiltskin put the thoughts to the back of his mind. There wasn’t really anything he could do to prepare, and he wanted to spend these precious moments remembering the good times, before, quite possibly, everything turned into a disaster when the time came to meet the Fallen Fae.

X

They appeared at the edge of the forest, and Rumpelstiltskin held Belle close to prevent her tripping with the sudden motion as they landed. She was holding his hand tightly, and she gave it a squeeze of gratitude as he caught her.

“This is as far as I trust my magic to take me,” he said. “Within these woods I’m as powerless as you are.”

“It’s all right, Rumpel. I’m not afraid.”

Rumpelstiltskin wished that he could say the same. It was a long time since he had dealt with the Fallen Fae, and he couldn’t be sure that their last parting had been on amicable terms. If they decided that they were going to offer some opposition to his presence in their land, then he didn’t know if he would be able to protect Belle.

Instead, he did not say anything. Belle leaned in close against him, and Rumpelstiltskin knew that it was not entirely due to her need for him to support her physically. Even though she wasn’t up to much walking, she could still be brave for him, just like she had been so brave throughout the rest of her life. He really didn’t know how he had ended up deserving someone like Belle in his life.

They had been walking for about ten minutes, and the darkness of the thick tree canopy was becoming oppressive, curling in around them and making the going difficult. They would need guidance soon, or they would be trapped in here forever. Rumpelstiltskin stopped; the magic was almost palpable, and he didn’t want to go further knowing that the Fallen Fae were so close. He couldn’t see them, but he could feel their presence.

“Rumpelstiltskin.”

He recognised the low, musical voice, and he knew better than to look around for its source. Mab would make herself known when she wanted to, thank you very much.

“Queen Mab.”

She came around from behind them, sidling into his line of sight. She had not changed in the many decades since he had last seen her. Both of them doomed to immortality on this earth, searching for something that they might never find. There were leaves in her black hair, exuding the rich, earthy scent of the forest and just about masking the altogether more unpleasant odour of rot. She couldn’t help that; it was an affliction of all the Fallen Fae.

“I assume that you’ve ventured into our domain on behalf of your companion,” Mab said, looking Belle up and down with her unfathomable dark eyes. “There’s strong magic at work, here. What did you do to anger Igraine’s daughters, young one?”

“It was my doing,” Rumpelstiltskin cut in. “Morgause knows that cursing me is pointless, so she decided on the next best thing instead.”

Mab shook her head, clicking her tongue in disapproval. “Bringing innocents into your deals now, are we, Rumpelstiltskin? Not very noble of you.”

“Since when have either you or I been noble, Mab?”

“We still have some kind of standards.” Mab reached out towards Belle, her fingers stopping a couple of inches away from her face. He was surprised when Belle didn’t startle back from the proximity, but he could see that there was nothing malicious in Mab’s expression, only sympathy. “But I think I see what’s what, here. Quite a complex relationship that the two of you share.”

“She is my maid, Mab.”

“One that you take with you on deals to far off places, accompanying you on your adventures?” Mab smirked. “Yes, of course, she’s your maid, Rumpelstiltskin.”

“We did not come here for idle chatter, Mab,” he snapped. “We seek to break a curse.”

“You seek the waters of the Dozmary to counter Morgause’s magic. Like calls to like, dark calls to dark.”

“It always does.”

Belle leaned on Rumpelstiltskin a little more; he could tell that her energy was flagging. “Is it much further to the pool?” she asked. “Neither of you are making any sense to me, and I am very tired.”

Mab smiled, a genuine one this time. The kind of smile that she would have given her charges had she still been a fairy godmother of yore.

“You’ve done bravely to make it this far into the woods, young one. The Dozmary is not far.”

Rumpelstiltskin reached into his pocket and took out the golden thread that he had brought as an offer of payment, but Mab brushed his hand aside.

“You know we have no use of such things here, Rumpelstiltskin, although I do appreciate the sentiment. We can discuss the price of this magic once we get there.”

“I’d far rather know the terms in advance.”

“You would. But it’s hardly as if you would deny the Dozmary’s powers to your young lady if you don’t like what I have to say. What would you do to cure her, Rumpelstiltskin? Anything?”

“I don’t like the tone that this conversation is taking, Mab.”

“You didn’t answer the question.” Still, despite that, she didn’t push him for a response, merely turning to lead the way through the labyrinthine trees towards the lake and its healing waters. There was no way that they would have been able to go on without her guidance. This far into the forest, towards the very lake where the lady herself had held forth Excalibur, there was no venturing without first having secured the assistance of the Fallen Fae. There was a reason why so few knights dared to come this far, even if the pilgrimage to see Excalibur’s birthplace was an aspiration of any man of the Round Table. The forest could send one mad within minutes.

Belle gasped as Mab presented her back to them. Where her fairy wings should have been were two dark, oozing gashes, the wings slashed off or pulled out at the root. The wounds would never heal fully, even in the Dozmary.

“Pretty, isn’t it?” Mab gave a dangerous smile over her shoulder. “Never believe anyone who tells you that fairies aren’t just as brutal and bloodthirsty as the humans they lord over. Come. It’s this way.”

Coming out of the dark forest into the sunlight on the shores of the Dozmary was jarring; Rumpelstiltskin had not realised just how thick the overhead canopy was. Belle turned her face up to the light and smiled at its warmth.

“Stay here and rest a while, young one,” Mab said. “Rumpelstiltskin and I have something to discuss.”

“If this deal involves me then I want to know what it is,” Belle protested.

“Don’t worry. It’s just a friendly chat between old acquaintances.”

Although Rumpelstiltskin could tell from her expression that Belle wasn’t at all mollified by this, he could also tell from how much of her weight he was bearing that she needed to sit down, at least, and to take a nap if possible. He didn’t mind it at all; he would have gladly carried her the entire way through the forest if he had needed to and if she had let him. Finally, she nodded, still glaring at Mab, and settled down on the soft grass at the edge of the trees.

Rumpelstiltskin followed Mab a little way down the lake shore, still keeping Belle within sight. The former fairy hopped up onto a low tree branch and sat there swinging her legs. It was such a small and childish notion, but it seemed to bring her happiness in the midst of the dark quagmire that she’d lived in for so long.

He folded his arms. “So, what did you want to discuss, Mab? What would be the payment for healing Belle in the lake?”

“I haven’t decided yet. Maybe you can owe me a favour. You’ve got more than enough of your own still to collect, after all. Maybe there is nothing owed this time. It’s not me doing the magic, after all. The Dozmary is the wellspring. All we do is guard it.”

“You know I’ve never held with that theory. Magic is everywhere, it has no source.”

“You’re welcome to believe that if you wish. I, however, believe otherwise, as do my fallen sisters. Whatever you believe, you must face the fact that it is not the Fallen Fae who will heal your young lady. It is the lake herself. Whatever offering you want to make in return for her power, you will have to make it to the lake herself.”

“And as the self-appointed guardian of the lake, could you give me some pointers as to what it might want? A new hat, perhaps? A fetching pair of stockings?”

Mab laughed. “You’ll want to be careful, Rumpelstiltskin. Such a flippant attitude could get you into trouble one day.”

“Who’s to say it hasn’t already?” His tone was light, but he was thinking of the confrontation in the tavern with Morgause, the events that had catalysed this entire journey.

“Wise words, but do they come from a wise man?”

“I don’t have time to chat, Mab.” Rumpelstiltskin glanced over at Belle again. She had her eyes closed, the breeze over the lake playing in her hair and toying with the fringes of her shawl.

Mab followed his eyeline. “She has time. Now that she’s by the lake, she won’t deteriorate any further. Give her this time to get her breath back. You don’t want her to drown once she gets into the pool, do you? The surface may look calm now, but there’s magic in the depths, and as you of all people know, the magic here in Avalon is as volatile as you can make it.”

Rumpelstiltskin had to concede that point. As long as Belle would get no worse in the time, then it would make sense for her to recover her strength before the main event.

“What did you really want to talk about?” Rumpelstiltskin asked. Although the two of them had known each other and been aware of each other’s magic for a long time, they had not interacted as often as Rumpelstiltskin had with other magic users of his acquaintance. Mab either could not or would not leave the Fallen Fae and travel within the Enchanted Forest, and Rumpelstiltskin avoided Arthur’s kingdom as much as he could. “And I wasn’t joking about giving me pointers as to what the lake wants.”

“I think that the lake and I want the same thing.” Mab smirked down at him, a knowing smirk that showed just how many years she had been watching the world and learning its secrets. “You’re in love with the maid, Rumpelstiltskin. You can’t deny it.”

“I can, and I will.”

“No, you can’t and won’t. Not in the end. The lake will make sure of that.”

“I really don’t like the sound of that, Mab.” Since Rumpelstiltskin had no intention of going anywhere near the lake, he sincerely hoped that it was no going to do something to Belle that would force him to show his hand as regarded his feelings for her.

“There’s really no need to fear, Rumpelstiltskin. Unlike most of the rest of us, the lake herself is not malevolent. She can be dangerous, yes. She has a mind of her own. But she does not seek to hurt. Humans and fae and whatever it is that you have become over the years, we’re all tainted by the pettiness of life and emotions. The lake is not so. We have no power over her. All we can do is guard and protect her to the best of our knowledge, and respect that we will never have the full extent of that knowledge. So, accept that the lake can and will be violent, but she will not be vindictive. And remember above all that her magic works in ways more mysterious than you could ever fathom.”

With those prophetic words, Mab vanished, leaving Belle and Rumpelstiltskin alone on the lake’s shore.

It was not as useful a conversation as Rumpelstiltskin had hoped it would be, but at the same time, the scant reassurance that Mab’s words had brought was better than no reassurance at all.

He made his way over to Belle, touching her shoulder lightly to get her attention. She opened her eyes and looked up at him with a tired smile.

“Did Mab say what the price would be?”

Rumpelstiltskin shook his head. “No. It’s for the lake to decide. I shall just have to take it as it comes. Are you ready to begin now, or would you like to rest a little longer?”

“I still feel ready to drop at any moment, but I’d rather get it over with. I hate feeling like this; I want to be well again as soon as I can.”

Rumpelstiltskin nodded. “Very well.” He held out a hand and Belle pulled herself to her feet again.

“So, what do I have to do?” she asked. “You said that I would need to bathe in the pool. Is that it, or are there any other sort of rituals that need to be observed?”

“No, that should be it.” What would happen once she was in the water was entirely up to the lake, and not even Mab would be able to predict that.

“Let’s get on with it then.”

Rumpelstiltskin squawked with alarm as Belle began to unfasten her bodice. “What are you doing?”

“I’m getting undressed, Rumpel, what does it look like I’m doing? Whoever heard of taking a bath with your clothes on?”

“I…” He had to concede the point, and the more that he thought about it, the more it made sense. They were here to experience the raw power of nature’s unchanneled magic, and it would probably be best to do that as nature intended. He spun on his heel to give her some privacy, and somewhere in the vicinity of the trees he heard a low little giggle. Mab was still there, watching them from the shadows, and he wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about that. On the one hand, her secrecy irritated him, but on the other, it would be a good idea to have her in the immediate vicinity in case something terrible happened and the lake decided to be malevolent after all.

“Rumpel?”

Belle’s voice was small, and for the first time since they had set out to the Dozmary Pool, she sounded scared. He felt her hand on his arm and turned back towards her. She was still wearing her chemise, but the rest of her clothes were in a heap by her feet.

Rumpelstiltskin’s eyes caught a glimpse of her dark, pebbled nipples, extremely pert and visible against the thin white fabric that barely covered them, and his gaze snapped back up to her face guiltily. Belle didn’t seem to have noticed his abstraction; her bottom lip was worrying between her teeth, and she looked scared.

It wasn’t often that Belle showed outright fear like this. Normally, her mantra of ‘doing the brave thing’ always managed to win out, no matter what. When they’d got themselves into various scrapes on various other outings for deals, she’d usually ended up being more angry than scared.

“Belle? What’s the matter?”

Belle glanced out over the lake, and he could well understand her trepidation at entering into something so completely unknown to either of them, especially given what he had just said about the lake extracting its own price. Finally, she looked back at him.

“I know it’s such a silly thing, but would you come in with me, please? I’m not scared of the lake and what it might do to me,” she hastened to explain, as if any explanation was required. “I know that it’s going to heal me, and I don’t fear that. But I’m just so tired, Rumpel, and I was never the best of swimmers to begin with. I don’t want to collapse and drown before it can work its magic. You’ve been so good to me whilst I’ve been ill, and I know it’s a lot to ask, but could you please hold me up for just a little longer? Of course, once I’m well again…”

Rumpelstiltskin held up a hand to stop her nervous patter.

“Of course, Belle.”

He only really realised what he had agreed to after the fact. For a start, he’d have to strip as well, and the sight of his naked self was really not something that he wanted to subject Belle to, but he figured that as she’d made the request, she had already realised that and would be braced for it. There was also the not insubstantial fear of the lake and what might be in it that he felt himself. Still, if his staying by her side would make Belle more comfortable, then he was prepared to do it. At least this way he would be here in the water and the lake could take its price from him, rather than Belle.

She smiled. “Thank you, Rumpel. This really does mean an awful lot to me.”

Rumpelstiltskin gave the tiniest squeak as she pulled up her chemise over her head and discarded it with the rest of her clothes, but since he was going to inevitably see it all anyway, there wasn’t a lot of point in making a fuss about it. He averted his eyes and quickly got to work disrobing himself; within a few moments, he was as bare as Belle was, and he glanced over to her. She was looking pointedly in the other direction, and there was a blush rising in her cheeks and spreading down over her décolletage and breasts.

He coughed nervously, trying not to stare, and held out a hand.

“Are you ready?”

Belle looked over at him, her eyes taking him in from top to toe and back again, and Rumpelstiltskin quickly looked his fill as well as she took his hand.

“Let’s get this over and done with.”

The water was freezing, and Rumpelstiltskin bit back a curse as he stepped into the shallows. Belle’s grip on his hand tightened, and he glanced over at her, trying not to notice the way her dusky pink nipples had pebbled with the cold. He gave her a smile of reassurance, and together they continued to pick their way towards the centre of the pool. Belle would have to be fully submerged for its healing powers to take effect, and that was the part that Rumpelstiltskin was worried about.

Soon the water was deep enough that it was easier to swim than wade, and they broke apart in order to paddle further in. The water seemed to be getting warmer as they came closer to the darkest depths, and he couldn’t tell if that was a good sign or a bad one.

Belle hadn’t been joking when she’d said that she wasn’t a strong swimmer; her dog paddle was determined, but not very economical when it came to the amount of energy she was expending, and it was clear that she was going to begin floundering soon. Rumpelstiltskin swam over to her; his own strokes weren’t all that much neater than hers, but at least he wasn’t in danger of keeling over from the effects of a curse any time soon. He grabbed her under her arms to help keep her upright, treading water for the both of them, and Belle slipped her arms around his neck gratefully.

“Thank you,” she gasped. “You know, when I said ‘is that all’ when you said I would have to bathe in the Dozmary Pool to get rid of this curse, I really should have held my tongue. This is hard work.”

“If there was another way, then I wouldn’t hesitate to suggest it,” Rumpelstiltskin agreed. “Are you ready to go under?”

Belle nodded and took a deep breath, using him as leverage to plunge under the water. She let go of him, and he followed her down, mainly to make sure that she was definitely going to come back up again.

As he sank down, he was immediately struck by the magic of the water. There were tiny currents of bubbles swirling around Belle’s pale limbs, and he could see the faintest inky tendrils of dark magic swirling within the streams. It was working; the water was drawing the curse out of her.

His chest was burning with the need to go back up for more air, and he could see that Belle was becoming distressed as well, moving her arms frantically, but the lake was holding her down now, the Dozmary’s powers would keep her below the surface for as long as it took for the curse to be cleansed from her.

If she went back up, then she would still be cursed, but if she stayed down here then she would surely drown.

Rumpelstiltskin pushed back up through the water and gasped for breath as he broke the surface. There was only one thing that he could think of to do, and he hoped that Belle would understand and thank him for it in the end. He took another huge breath and went under again, swimming over to Belle and watching as the currents parted to let him closer to her, then swirled back into place. He caught her face with both hands, and as their eyes met, Belle’s frightened blue ones against his determined grey-brown, she gave the tiniest of trusting smiles.

Rumpelstiltskin pressed his lips against hers, forcing her mouth open and sharing his breath with her. She flailed a little, then relaxed into it. The currents were moving faster around her now, the streams becoming ever more tainted with the dark magic until their colour could be seen clearly. Rumpelstiltskin went back up for air twice more, until the streams moved away from Belle completely, and the inky magic began to dissipate. This was it. The curse should have been removed.

Belle was still light-headed from lack of air even despite his efforts, and he pulled her back up to the surface without a moment to lose. If the curse was still on her, then they would deal with that later, but for now, she needed to breath. There was no use in breaking her curse if the very cure would kill her quicker than the curse itself would.

Belle gasped, gulping down huge lungfuls of air and coughing, holding onto Rumpelstiltskin so tightly it hurt, but he paid no mind to the pain. All he could think about was making sure that Belle was all right. Once her choking had finally subsided, he scraped her wet hair out of her eyes.

“Thank you, Rumpel,” she rasped. “If you hadn’t been there, I’d have been a goner for sure.”

Rumpelstiltskin remembered the feel of Belle’s mouth against his, and he couldn’t help wondering what it would be like to kiss her in slightly less fraught circumstances, when her life wasn’t in the balance. With an uncomfortable jolt, he realised that this was what Mab meant when she’d promised that the lake would force him to reveal his true feelings.

Perhaps before, he would have made a quip about good help being so hard to find that he couldn’t let a decent maid drown, but for now, he was far too grateful for her being alive to make light of the fact.

“Let’s get back to the shore,” he said.

Belle nodded her agreement, but before they could begin their dogged paddle back towards dry land, Rumpelstiltskin felt the currents begin to swirl around his legs again. The surface was perfectly still, and whatever was moving around them was most certainly magic.

“Rumpel, what’s happening?”

Rumpelstiltskin shook his head. “I have no idea.” He glanced over to the shore, to where he knew Mab must be watching over them, but there was no sign of her, and he didn’t have enough breath back yet to yell. At this stage, with Belle’s life on the line, he was not above screaming for help.

The water began to move faster and faster around them, and the surface began to foam and ripple, eddying around their bodies. They were in the centre of a whirlpool that had begun from nothing.

“Rumpel!” Belle was clinging to him tightly, her arms around his neck and her legs clamped around his waist. The water showed no signs of letting up, and Rumpelstiltskin knew that he was going to have to think fast.

“Hold on!”

He detached one hand from his hold on her, waving it sharply through the air with the hissed words of a protection spell. He had no idea if it would hold or not, here in the middle of the Fallen Fae’s lands, but he had to try. An invisible barrier flew up around them just as the surface of the lake roared up above their heads and enveloped them completely in the whirlpool. Belle screamed, burying her face in against his shoulder, and as they were buffeted about, it was all Rumpelstiltskin could do to keep up the shield. It was using all his concentration, and he wasn’t surprised when it finally broke, the wave smashing into them and carrying them over the surface of the lake. He snatched a breath, trying to brace for the next movement. He’d never held much belief in the Lady of the Lake, the unseen presence and source of all magic, but if she was there, and she was doing this, then he wasn’t about appealing to her better nature.

_Please, Lady Dozmary. Let her survive this. Take me if you want, if that’s the payment you need, but for pity’s sake, don’t harm her._

He closed his eyes, but the next wave never came. The water washed them up gently on the shore, both gasping for breath after the whirlpool, Belle clinging limpet-like to Rumpelstiltskin. He kept her head tucked in against his chest until he was absolutely sure that they had stopped moving and that the pool had gone back to its deceptively calm self.

“Is it over?” Belle asked. Her eyes were screwed up tight and she forced one of them open, peering over Rumpel’s shoulder to see for herself that they were on dry land once more. Once convinced of their safety, she smiled, nudging her forehead against his chin.

“Thank you, Rumpel,” she said. “I really don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been there.”

Rumpelstiltskin didn’t know what he would have done either, if he had been standing on the side-lines and had seen the huge maelstrom that had engulfed them. He shivered at the thought of it, and despite all the awkwardness that he had felt at the beginning, he was incredibly glad that he’d accompanied Belle into the water.

One of her hands detached from her tight hold on him and came up to brush his rat-tailed hair out of his eyes.

“We must look a proper sight,” she giggled. “But… do you think it worked?”

Rumpelstiltskin thought back to the tendrils of inky magic that he had seen leeching out of Belle and into the water before everything had started to go wild, and he nodded.

“I think so. But if you’ll permit me to check, then it will put both our minds at ease.”

Belle nodded and held up her arm for him. He ran his fingertips over her smooth skin, pulling out the miasma with a whispered spell. It was pure silver, as it should be, no magical influence of any kind exerting its force on her.

“Yes, it’s gone. You should be feeling better very soon.”

“I do feel better already,” Belle said. “I haven’t felt this awake and energised in a week; even though battling the whirlpool made me tired, it’s not the same kind of exhaustion as I was feeling before. Once I get my breath back, I’m sure I’ll be as healthy as ever.”

Rumpelstiltskin agreed that getting their breath back was an excellent idea, and they continue to lie on the shore. It was only once his heart rate was returning to a vaguely normal level that he realised that he and Belle were still very entwined and still very naked, and Belle’s breasts were pressing up against his chest, and he was still stroking her smooth, creamy skin where he had performed the spell, and his heart began to beat much faster all over again. Despite the amount of water he must have swallowed, his mouth was dry, and now that Belle was out of danger, he found himself admiring her bare beauty much more than he had done before they entered the lake. Pretty soon, she would feel just how much he was admiring it, and he tried desperately to think of something, anything, else.

Luckily at that point, Belle pulled away from him a little, propping herself up on one elbow and looking over his shoulder along the banks of the lake. She seemed completely unconcerned for being so exposed, and for Rumpel seeing her so. He tried not to gawp, well aware that she was getting the same eyeful from him.

Presently she laughed, and Rumpel’s brow furrowed.

“What’s so funny?”

“It seems like Mab’s been looking out for us after all.” She pointed down the banks, and Rumpelstiltskin twisted to follow her sight line. A little further away, a small campfire had been set, with their discarded clothes neatly folded and a pile of soft wool blankets next to it.

Yes, it seemed that there was to be no denying to Mab the extent of his true feelings for Belle. Now all that remained was how he was going to broach the topic with Belle herself. Considering that they were lying on the banks of a lake together stark naked, it was probably as good a place to start as any, but Rumpelstiltskin could not bring himself to speak.

There was absolutely no way that his feelings could be returned, and the more he thought about Mab’s words, and the more he thought about Belle, the more he wondered if he might be walking into some terrible trap set by the Fallen Fae to catch him at his most vulnerable. He did not blame Belle, in any way. He blamed Mab. Yes, she might know his feelings better than he did, and the lake may have forced them out into the open and forced him to confront them head on, but that didn’t mean that he had to stand the humiliation of knowing that Belle did not return them. She liked him, and she trusted him. These past few minutes in the lake had proved that admirably.

But there was no way that she could love him like he did her. Nobody could ever love him; the world had proved that time and again. There was certainly no way that she could find him remotely attractive with his appearance being what it was, especially now that she had seen all of him.

“Thank you, Rumpel,” Belle said again, softly. Before he could brush away the statement of gratitude, her hand was on his shoulder, and she was leaning in to press her lips to his cheek. Rumpelstiltskin froze under her touch. Belle had always been tactile, it was one of the first things that he had noticed about her when he had presented her with her own room in the castle and moved her out of the dungeons, and they had started spending much more time in each other’s company every day. She was generous with her gentle touches, expressing things to him through the warmth and softness of her fingertips, the weight of her hands on his arm or knee as she sat near him. At first he had shied away from the constant contact and the overload of emotions that it had brought with it, but over time, he had come to enjoy those moments of closeness between them, and as his feelings had developed and he had tried so hard to deny them, he had accepted that it was as close as he was ever going to get to her.

He had always assumed that she was doing it all unconsciously, and that she would be as tactile and friendly with everyone who crossed her path without giving it a second thought. Now, as she pulled back and searched his face, a small, hopeful spark in the pit of his stomach began to make him wonder. Was she doing it on purpose?

The huge gnawing monster of doubt in his mind reared its ugly head, hissing in his ears that she couldn’t possibly be touching him like this because she wanted to. He was ugly and unlovable and she was doing it because she felt she owed him a debt, so why not show the old monster a little scrap of kindness in payment for saving her life?

Rumpelstiltskin tried to push the horribly intrusive thoughts away, because he knew that Belle was not like that. She had never pitied him for his beastly appearance. She pitied his loneliness and isolation; she pitied the loss of his family. She had never pitied the monster for being a monster, and it would be doing her a disservice to think her so shallow now.

“Rumpel?”

Her voice dragged him out of his reverie and he finally met her eyes.

“Rumpel, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I just thought that maybe… But I guess not. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have presumed.”

She pulled away from him then, scrambling up to her feet, all at once conscious and ashamed of her nakedness, and she padded quickly down the banks towards the campfire and their clothes. Completely confused, Rumpelstiltskin pulled himself up onto still-exhausted legs and followed her.

“Wait, Belle, what?”

She turned to face him, eyes downcast, one of the blankets pulled in closer around her.

“I thought for a moment that perhaps you felt the same way I did. I trust you with my life, Rumpel, and I care for you so deeply I don’t know what I’d do if I ever lost you in the way we were nearly lost in the lake just now. I know that I wouldn’t be able to bear it. And I thought that maybe you felt the same way about me. When you held me in the water… I didn’t want you to let go. I just wanted to stay in your arms forever.” She shook her head. “I know it can’t be true; I know it’s impossible. After all, you’re the most powerful sorcerer in all the realms and I’m just an ordinary girl who loves books too much.”

“Nothing about you is ordinary, Belle. You’re truly a marvel. It pained him to see her put herself down like that. He still couldn’t believe what he was hearing, that his feelings were returned after all, after all the self-doubt that had plagued him, but hearing Belle’s own self-doubt pushed his issues to one side. He had to show her how he felt about her. He had to show her how much he cared and just how special she was to him, be he the most powerful sorcerer in the realms or not.

As she had said to him so many times before on their adventures together, it was time to do the brave thing, and just pray that bravery would follow.

He cupped her face and kissed her deliberately, his mouth slanting over hers, trying to pour all of his tumultuous and confused emotions into that one kiss, hoping against hope that he had not completely misinterpreted her speech.

He had not. Belle returned the kiss wholeheartedly, letting the blanket drop to the ground and hooking her arms around his neck, her lips parting eagerly for him.

“Oh my,” she breathed as they broke away. “Oh,  _Rumpel_.”

They tumbled back onto the bank in a frenzy of kisses and caresses, Belle’s hands carding into Rumpelstiltskin’s hair as he trailed his lips over her cheeks and chin, down her neck and over her breasts, determined to kiss every inch of her perfect creamy skin. Her legs crossed around his hips again, this time out of simple desire to be close to him rather than holding on for dear life to stop herself from drowning. He could feel the heat from her core rubbing up against him, her hips shunting against his, and the blood began to rush south, his cock twitching in eager anticipation.

“Belle…” He tore himself away from her beautiful skin to meet her gaze again. “Are you sure?”

Belle nodded. “I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life. Please, Rumpelstiltskin. I want this.”

“But I’m…” He gestured to himself.

“You’re the most complicated man I’ve ever met,” Belle said. “I know you won’t believe me if I tell you that I find you beautiful, but I’m going to tell you anyway.” She pulled him back in close, whispering in his ear. “ _You’re beautiful and I love you.”_

Rumpelstiltskin had heard those words before, in other situations, in other times, with other women, and it had never held true before. This time though, there was something in Belle’s eyes that could not be faked. This was no quest for power, not here when there was so much magic around that Rumpelstiltskin himself could not even control. Not here where they were both on an equal footing, both just as exposed and vulnerable as each other.

As impossible as it seemed, Belle loved him, and he loved her, however much his tongue was tying itself in knots and refusing to let the words come out.

So, he kissed her again instead, slipping a hand down to cup her breast and rub circles over her nipple. It had been so long since he’d last done this, and even though his cock still definitely knew what was required of it and was very excited at the notion, his memories of pleasuring women were scarce and not wholly successful ones.

Belle seemed more than happy to help in that regard, grabbing his hand and pulling it further down, until he was cupping her mound and she was moving against him. For a moment he looked up at her, alarmed by her boldness, but the bold, cheeky little smile that she gave him was reassurance enough.

“You have a lot of interesting books in the library, Rumpelstiltskin. Some of them even have pictures and practical instructions. I may have been practising a little before I was cursed.”

Had he been a lesser man, he might have fainted at the thought, but sheer magical power kept him in the moment, and he used his instincts, slipping his fingers into her folds and feeling his heart skip a beat when he found her wet and warm and ready for him. Belle’s voice was soft and breathy in his ear as she guided him; _yes, like that, please, again_ … He was helpless to deny her, revelling in her little cries of pleasure and trying to commit each one to memory, each gasp, each moue of ecstasy on her lips. Her honey was running thick and freely over his hand as she cried out with her release, her inner walls clutching at his fingers.

“Oh  _yes_ , Rumpel.”

Belle lay panting for a long while, her fingers digging into him as she came back down from the high, but then she was slipping a hand between them again, finding his hard cock and stroking up and down his length with a mixture of reverence and curiosity.

“Oh Belle, Belle, if you keep that up I won’t last another minute. Please, Belle, let me inside?”

She nodded, and Rumpelstiltskin shifted his weight so that he could line them up, sinking into her wet heat like falling into some kind of heaven on earth. He braced himself, trying not to go too deep and hurt her on the first time, but then Belle canted her hips up towards him, her feet digging into his thighs to get him to move, and they set up a slow, tentative rhythm.

He was right; he didn’t last more than a minute before pleasure overtook him, but every second was glorious, and as he began to soften inside her, he rested his forehead against hers. He would be able to say those wonderful words to her soon, but not now, not whilst everything was still so new and he was still trying to get his head around the mind-boggling truth that not only did Belle love him back, they’d just consummated that love with abandon, here on the banks of the Dozmary.

He rolled over so that he could slip out of her, and she immediately snuggled back in close against his side, her legs intertwining with his again. The breeze coming over the lake felt chillier now, and he felt around for the discarded blanket, spreading it out over the both of them. The water was calm, and Rumpelstiltskin felt an inner calm that he had not possessed since well before the frantic time that had come to pass with Belle’s curse.

Soon Belle’s breathing evened out and she passed into a light doze beside him. Rumpelstiltskin let her sleep; she had certainly not had any very restful slumber for a few days now, so she would need this time now to truly recover from her ordeal. As much as he hated to stay in Avalon for any longer than necessary, he felt remarkably safe here by the lake. Having come through everything it had thrown at them unscathed, Rumpelstiltskin felt that there was a new mutual respect for each other’s powers in the air.

“I told you that your true feelings would become known.”

He looked up sharply to see Mab sitting by the fire in the waning evening light. She was smiling fondly.

“Love is such a tricky thing, Rumpelstiltskin. If you take care not to let it slip through your fingers, the Dozmary and the Fallen Fae will always be here to guide you through. Do not fuel the fire, for only we know the branches that can be safely fed to the flames.”

Rumpelstiltskin knew it for what it was, placing a time limit on their visit so that they could stay a while but not infringe on the Fallen Fae’s home and the Dozmary’s hard-won hospitality longer than their welcome.

Mab stood, melting into the long shadows as she did so.

“Enjoy this moment, Rumpelstiltskin, for it brings our sisterhood hope that even we can find such love and happiness eventually.”

Rumpelstiltskin nodded, and continue to watch the dancing flames and just enjoy the feeling of Belle’s body in his arms, warm and solid and whole and well. 

Perhaps the magic of Avalon was not so bad after all.


End file.
